


Yesterday

by RunTheJewels



Series: Earn Your Happy Ending [2]
Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Ambiguous Protagonist - Freeform, Angst, Body Image, Body Worship, Established Relationship, Fluff, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Low Chaos Ending, Secret Relationship, a bit of a moonlight reference if you look close enough
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 21:28:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16584524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunTheJewels/pseuds/RunTheJewels
Summary: They always knew what they had was never enough. It's just that, now, they've grown tired of pretending.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Never intended this to go past a single fic but that's how my most major stories start. If you enjoyed, do let me know.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Li-aah!” Paolo was cut off by an embarrassingly sharp moan when Liam rubbed his finger over the incredibly sensitive head of his cock. He could feel the man smirk against his balls before he took in another sniff. Paolo forced himself back from the edge, “But I’m starting to think you’ve got a thing.” 

“What are you trying to say?” Came the resulting rumble. 

“I mean you’re always down there!” Paolo bit out as Liam started to stroke him. “Can’t believe I smell that good.” 

“Your belief isn’t necessary.” Liam snapped back without heat, earning a cold foot to the back of his neck. “And I like how you smell.” 

“No shit.” 

Liam couldn’t help but notice the novelty of it all. Not him and Paolo being together, he had long ago lost count of how many times they’ve shared a bed but them talking so... _ casually _ . From the start, their relationship was stolen nights, muted whispers, muffled groans and lonely morning afters. Not the bantering they were doing now. And Liam was hanging off of every word, every paltry, insignificant second meaning the world to him. 

“Are all you Abbey boys filthy kinksters?” Liam felt Paolo’s still cold rough foot run down his back as he stretched his leg and stop at the top of his half exposed ass, the rest of it hidden away by his pants. 

“You know I can’t answer that.” Liam’s head lifted to look him square in the eye and then whispered, “But the things I’ve heard.” 

Paolo let out a soft laugh and sank deeper into the mattress. The Empress had invited them all back to discuss the state of the empire and as before, had granted them all their own lodgings within her palace with Abele, Hypatia and Stilton just down the hall. There was something about being bare naked in the moonlight, fucking your lover on an expensive bed in a massive room that made Liam insatiable. And the way Paolo looked at him, mouth slightly ajar in rapturous awe whenever the moonlight hit Liam’s skin and turned his dark, earthen brown into a majestic cobalt blue, he very clearly felt the same. 

That’s how Paolo had drunkenly described him once. Majestic. The comment was off-handed but Liam would never forget it. 

A week they had been in Dunwall and every single night of it was spent on top of one another, staining Her Majesty’s nice sheets with sweat, cum and wine because the leader of the Howlers just had to use his hands when he talked, regardless of what was in them. Now, only a few nights remained for them and Liam was going to spend them as he always had, pushing Paolo close to the edge before pulling him back as many times as he could manage until the man was all but threatening his life with desperate, breathy moans. 

Liam took him into his mouth, humming deep in his throat so Paolo would feel the vibration of it. The man’s lean, scarred stomach flexed as his breath upped and left his body. Liam worked his mouth and tongue up and down the length of him, one hand to help him and the other running up Paolo’s body, groping every bit of rough, scarred hairy skin he could find.

“I have another question,” Paolo said, breaking the few minutes of silence. 

Liam groaned, earning himself another one of those charming smiles. 

“Do you get your pants tailored?” 

“Why?” Liam asked softly, as he started to move up from Paolo’s cock, kissing every inch of tan, scarred skin on the man’s torso. 

“Because there’s no way standard uniform pants can fit an ass like this.”

“Looks like I’m not the only one with kink,” Liam suppressed a ticklish laugh as his foot pressed into the muscle of his backside. 

“He admits it.”

“And you aren’t denying it.” Liam captured his lips with his own. Paolo found his hands roaming of their own accord, over Liam’s arms, Liam’s shoulders. He squeezed a tense spot in Liam’s back in his exploring and Liam felt his arm buckle with a surprised grunt. 

“You good?” Paolo laughed at him but there was some slight hint of concern. 

“Yeah, yeah. You just hit a knot.” 

“Speakin’ of…”

“Shut up,” Liam muttered before taking his lips again. He reached back, hooking a thumb into the back of his pants and undergarments and roughly tugging it downward, freeing his cock from its confines. 

“They feed you well, Overseer?” Liam pulled away to give him a scowl only to immediately be pulled back down so Paolo could kiss and bite at the muscles of his neck, “Just wonderin, Liam. You pulled down your pants and I thought I saw a little jiggle back there.” 

Liam broke out into a fit of coughs. His arms gave out and he dropped his full weight on the Howler, trying and failing to suppress raucous laughter into the pillow beneath their heads. Paolo soon devolved into his own fit, both men forgetting for the moment who they were, where they were and how disastrous it would be if they were heard. 

For a foolish moment, Liam thought, “ _ Let them hear.”  _ Let them hear every word, every moan, every plead, every shout. Give the guards outside something to think about when they were alone and lonely in bed or the next time they’re with their own partners. 

“By the Void, I hate you” Liam bit out, a laugh escaping with the words. He hefted himself up and grabbed hold of the bottle of oil next to the bed, coating the both of them before lining their pricks together. Liam started to move. Paolo’s laughter devolved into weak moans as Liam rolled his hips to a rhythm, forcing their cocks against each other. Liam’s heavy bulk only added to the pressure, the mind-rending friction. 

Paolo pulled him down into a kiss. The bed creaked under their weight. Hips meeting, tongues fighting and hands groping at every little inch of each other they could.

Liam ground into him harder, the solid headboard tapping the wall with each forceful roll of his hips. Liam’s hand tightened in slick black hair as Paolo’s teeth sank into the muscle of his shoulder. He was close. Too far over the edge to pull back now. _Hold_ , he ordered himself harshly. _Hold. Just a bit longer. Let me have this for just a little bit longer_. Liam shifted his head down, his dripping forehead sliding down Paolo’s until their eyes met. 

It was his eyes that finally ended the last of Liam’s resistance. Being respected or admired was nothing new to him. He saw it in the eyes of his men, his subordinates, Abbey prospects. This was different. In Paolo’s eyes was desperate, overwhelming adoration and reverence. 

What he wouldn’t give to see this every day. 

Liam’s finish hit him like a speeding carriage. He felt Paolo’s nails dig painfully into his back just as he felt hot seed stripe his stomach. Liam was heaving, the fall from his rise agonizingly slow. Paolo’s arms fell away from Liam, spread out across the bed. The Serkonan pressed his foot into Liam’s ass, watched it sink slightly and started laughing again. 

“Shut up,” Liam moaned, trying not to start up again as well. Paolo only laughed a little harder, giggling like a child pretending to be asleep when their parent checks into the room. “Paolo, I said shut up.” His resolve was breaking again. 

“What, you embarrassed?” He drawled, “You know good and damn well I don’t fuckin mind if you gain a bit of weight. Or even a lot. Got yourself a nice little rise and fall back there. You should charge for the show you put on anytime you start walking.” Paolo adjusted his hips and elicited a moan when their still sensitive dicks brushed against each other. “Grow a belly while you’re at it. Give me something to spring off of the next time I have you under me.” 

Liam Byrne lost it, falling towards the side and snorting loudly into the other man’s shoulder, not caring in the slightest who might hear. Through eyes blurred by tears, he watched Paolo lose himself in his fit of laughter and his heart fluttered. He flattened a palm against Paolo’s heart, leaned in and pressed his head against the side of the Howler’s. “By the Void, I love you.” 

Paolo pressed a soft, languid kiss to his lips. When Liam pulled back, they shared only seconds of eye contact before Paolo turned away, the sounds of stifled laughter ringing in his throat. 

“Ass,” Liam muttered and then yelped when a large hand suddenly smacked his. Paolo just laughed louder. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am literally the only author in this tag. "Look at me *gestures to my own eyes* I'm the captain now"
> 
> If you're still here after that joke, please enjoy

Paolo pulled away, “Alright, move, I’m thirsty.” With a groan, Paolo pushed himself to the edge of the bed and stood. Liam watched him shuffle over to the table on the far side of the room, noticing every shift of muscle under tight skin involved in the movement under dim light.

Black stars dotted the Serkonan’s sun tanned skin. “One for every person I’ve killed,” he had once told Liam after he had caught him staring while his back was turned, attempting to count. This was before they became what they were. Before, when both men had convinced themselves that this was just sex. Liam never attempted again. 

He had asked if they were something akin to notches on a young man’s bedpost or a regularly dusted and polished collection of rare coins on display in one’s main living area. Were they for show? Was he proud of them? And all Paolo had told him was that he’d be lying if he said he had never been. 

“You’re staring again, Byrne,” Paolo said after pulling a bottle of wine away from his lips.

“I can’t admire the view?” Byrne’s tone remained neutral, with a slight teasing added in. 

“Doesn’t the Abbey advise against the wandering gaze? Besides, what’s there to look at?” 

“For one, my gaze is pretty focused right now.” Liam slid of the bed, moonlight still glinting off of bare skin. Paolo leaned back into Liam when he got close enough. Liam’s arm went over his shoulder while the other snatched the bottle out of his hand, “And two, there’s plenty to look at.”

“Ah, don’t drink it all!” Liam held the wine away when Paolo lunged for it. Then thought better of it and handed it back before he tackled the both of them to the ground. Liam wrapped the other arm around Paolo’s neck and leaned into him from behind. Paolo’s shorter height and leaner frame belied a strength born from decades of hard labor and harder fighting. Liam’s full weight barely made Paolo so much as sway and when it was Liam who wished to be held down, have his control removed, his face pushed into the pillows as he was taken from behind, he never found himself wanting. Being tossed over anyone’s shoulder had been a novel experience for him. 

Paolo took another swig of fig wine then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can hear you thinkin’ back there, Li.” Only four people ever called him ‘Li’. Paolo was one of the only two who wasn’t dead. 

“Nothing’s wrong. Really.” 

Paolo held the bottle back to him. Liam unwrapped one arm to take it. “Does it still bother you, Li?” he asked, “What we do?” 

“Not anymore,” he said truthfully, “It did before. Badly.” Paolo took him by the hand and walked them both back to the bed, both men draping across it, wrapped around each other. “Do you remember the first time? Very first time, I mean.”

Paolo snorted, “Barely. Hadn’t been that shit-faced in a long, long time. The Fugue Feast is something else.” 

“It was the same for me.” Even to this day, Liam could only ever pull on snatches of memory. The taste of hard liquor, stubble rubbing his neck raw and bruising kisses. But with everything he could pull, there came with it both the memories of mind numbing pleasure as well as gut twisting shame. 

He had just finished his vigil. Him, an Overseer of the Abbey, just as he dreamed since childhood. He had worked so hard for so long. Now, one night,  _ one night _ , was all it would take to ruin him entirely. It would be over his head for the rest of his days. The stranger had asked for his name. Naturally, Liam refused to give it or even so much as face the other man as he made a beeline for the door after the deed was done. 

How things have changed since then. The man he couldn’t bring himself to look at before was now lying comfortably naked next to him on his stomach with his arm lazily thrown over Liam’s chest, listening without offense or even judgement to the story of how Liam used to be ashamed of him. 

Then again, Paolo could always see right through him. Maybe he knew that deep down, Liam was more ashamed with himself, for breaking his vows so easily. This was before Paolo and the Howlers had become a true household name in Karnaca, before he came across that old crone’s hand. Before Liam was what he was more than a mouth or a dick. 

Before, he said aloud, he would have been proud. Corrupting the “moral integrity” of an Overseer would have been the biggest ego stroke in the world; something that would have had his people buying him drinks and making toasts to his health for days to come. Even now, he struggled to say he cares because it would have been a lie; how could he when the very beliefs that made Liam ashamed had been a source of pain and suffering for so many across the Isles? But he could say that he was glad Liam no longer suffered and that’s because it was true. 

Liam’s deep, smooth voice filled the quiet suite as he continued on about how he threw himself into his work, participating in a multitude of arrests, interrogations and raids until his superiors practically forced him to take time for himself. They, caught between his unending desire to distract himself from his sinful thoughts and their unwillingness to lose an incredibly promising young Overseer to his own overexertion, decided to have him lead Abbey services for a while. He’d work, just not in the field. Rereading the Seven Strictures, crafting lessons and stories to tell that were so powerful, so profound, so moving that he would find himself beset by praise afterwards from civilians and his brothers alike. 

For a time, he had found peace in his life again. The weight of his one secret being used against him still hung over his head and even though he knew what he did was marginally common, especially among the younger Overseers, it hadn’t gotten any less of a burden to carry. But he felt stronger, better able to carry it. 

Then months passed and he was pulled back into the field. With his return came his ambition, his desire to rise through the ranks of the Abbey and along with it, his one mistake. They wanted to ease him back into it, a simple interrogation. 

The one to be interrogated? A boy; no older than thirteen, obviously falsely accused and absolutely terrified. 

He would forever carry the shame of the choice he made regarding that child. Liam stopped there in his recounting. Paolo started to rub his chest when his breathing became labored, panicked. Yet another thing to regret. 

He woke early one morning the week after the interrogation to news of a promotion. He spent the rest of that morning with his head in a toilet, sick to his stomach. To this day, he couldn’t tell what brought him back to that bar later that evening, civilian clothing replacing his uniform. But he knew what he had been hoping for. 

He got it too. Months of no contact and the stranger recognized him on sight, announcing his presence with a seat next to him at the bar. “Mister No Name. Long time no see.” He greeted with a nod and a gesture with the cup in his hand. Liam grunted in response with his eyes glued to the bar, not trusting his voice enough to talk and still unable to look him in the eyes. 

Liam mumbled something, too far under his breath for anyone to hear. The stranger asked him to repeat it and he did. “Can we find somewhere private?” 

Silence at first, filled only by the murmur of voices behind them. Then deep smooth chuckling. “Buddy,” the stranger laughed, “I don’t know how they do it where you’re from. But I prefer to be looked in the eye when I’m being propositioned.” 

Liam’s clasped fingers squeezed tighter and he was sure the stranger could see his shoulders trembling. But he did, he turned his face and looked at the stranger who had given him some of his best and worst memories. The first thing he noticed. Liam retold, was the ears, earning a good natured slap to the sternum. The stranger’s tanned face was weathered, beaten. Not the handsomest thing in the world but then the stranger smiled. White teeth, brilliant and sharp. As much as he hated himself to say it, he understood why he had ended up in this man’s bed. That smile could seduce men’s wives and then the men themselves. Paolo laughed at the way he described it and said he couldn’t wait until it was his turn to tell a story. Liam didn’t miss the small tinge of red that graced his cheeks. 

The stranger took him in, shrewd eyes dragging up and down the length of Liam’s body. His eyes returned to Liam’s face, spending a few seconds on his lips before returning to his eyes. “What’s your name, friend?” The stranger whispered. 

Liam hesitated, as if it still mattered this far in. He felt a large, warm hand wrap around his forearm and squeezed. The stranger was no longer smiling but instead held a solemn and trusting look. He put his other hand to his chest and said, “Paolo. I’m Paolo.” 

Liam’s mouth opened and closed once, twice. Trying and failing to find his voice. The stranger, Paolo, he was so close, his voice so reassuring. 

“Liam.” 

He heard Paolo exhale. “Liam,” he had said, testing, tasting the word on his tongue. Then he leaned in, “Liam,” he said again, “Can I take you somewhere private, Liam?” 

_ (“You’re such a good storyteller, you know that? Fuck, I’m gettin’ hard again.”) _

Liam let himself be led up dimly lit stairs, for the first time in months not caring who might see. Paolo led him to a door at the end of the inn’s hall and inside as soon as it was unlocked. Paolo closed the door, shrouding them both in complete darkness. Hard breathing was the only sound that left Liam’s body as he heard Paolo’s feet move towards one of the tables against the wall. He heard several items removed from pockets, placed down and regaining some sense of himself, moved to do the same. 

The movement seemed to give Liam’s hands a life of their own because as soon as Paolo turned to face him, he found his hands on his shoulders, pulling on the black suit jacket covering him. “Eager,” Paolo muttered, with a hint of a smile on his voice, “Good. It’s not just me.” He shrugged out of the jacket and Liam’s hands squeezed his shoulders, hard muscle under a thin cotton shirt. Paolo’s own hands came up to his waist, running up and down Liam’s torso. 

“Liam.” 

“Yes?” 

Another small laugh. “No, no. I...was just saying your name.” Paolo’s hands run up his chest, over his shoulders, down his arms, feeling every bit of Liam he could. “I’ve been pissed at myself for a while now, for never getting your name the first time.” His hands returned to Liam’s waist and pulled on him until their bodies were flush together. “Something to call you whenever I spent my time thinking about you.” Liam remembered his words perfectly,  _ “ _ You must have been so proud of yourself when you said that.” 

“Seeing as I felt you heat up under your clothes, fuck yeah I was.” Paolo lifted himself up into a sitting position, his back against the headboard. “You know...I had thought that you were acting like that because you were married or something. I never would have guessed Overseer. I was a bit disappointed cause after…” he adjusted the covers near his crotch with a soft moan, “After  _ that night _ , I wanted this to become a regular thing.” 

“I’m glad it has.” 

“And the Abbey?” 

Liam crossed his fingers over his chest. “It is…still a sore point.” He sighed, “It’s…for a long time, this was all I wanted. Vice Overseer. Maybe High Overseer one day but…after that interrogation. After that boy…”

“You said he survived the interrogation, didn’t he?” 

“Doesn’t change what I did.” Liam closed his eyes, “And it never will.” 

Paolo hummed and slid back down to the bed. Liam felt him move closer and kiss him. Even in his half-sleep, Liam responded and pushed the kiss only slightly, knowing it wouldn’t go any further. Just a little bit of heat to keep them both warm through the night. 

****


	3. Chapter Three

Liam was tired. He could feel it down to his bones and and for once, it wasn’t due to his routine lack of sleep. On the contrary, he had been sleeping better on this week long diplomatic visit than he had in all the weeks before and probably will in the weeks after. Instead, his weariness was born of lament, of dread and apprehension. The kind of exhaustion that came from being hyper aware of every single minute that crawled past. 

The talks had ended. Paolo would be leaving in the morning and Liam would spend the three days after he was gone here in Dunwall before life dragged him by the throat back to his duties. He was tired due to having spent the previous night staring at the high ornate ceiling, unable to sleep, counting each and every breath that passed between them before the sun could come, chase off the night and force him out of his lull. 

Several of his brothers had commented on his less than warm disposition throughout the day, asking if he was ill, if he had been eating or sleeping well during their time in Dunwall. His mask was slipping, their vocalized concerns meant that he wasn’t doing a good a job at hiding his dourness as he thought he was. Their concerns were noted, were appreciated and he told them as much but these men he had selected to accompany him were not the ones who spent most of their days around him. If they did, they would have known that what they saw today was the norm. In Karnaca, he rarely laughed, smiled and, if he was being entirely honest with himself, wasn’t always the most comfortable or uplifting man to be around. 

Paolo and their time together had bought the world some reprieve from his usual severity. Liam had spent the week on cloud nine, like the love struck fool he was and now, all of that was coming to an end. 

Paolo was taking the inevitable even worse than he was. He had just barely been able to keep himself from losing his carefully constructed composure throughout the day and that was only due to the fact that either his Howlers or the Empress or Liam himself always managed to be present. Out of the three, only for two did he care about keeping appearances with. 

The third, he did not. Even in the stressful political atmosphere, where he and the third were meant to be barely amicable former enemies, he couldn’t hide even the most subtle ways Liam’s presence calmed him down. 

They were alone now and it was starting to feel too much like before. Coming to each other in secret, too quickly doing the deed then leaving before the moon could even start to set. “You’ve eaten, yes?” Liam asked when the silence started to become physically painful. 

“Yeah, I ate.” Paolo was on the edge of the bed, facing away from him, fiddling with his tie and scowling at the wall for the past fifteen minutes. Liam stood at the window, watching the Dunwall horizon he had come to fall in love with over the years. “If you want to get started then let’s get started,” Liam heard from behind him. “Got an early morning.” 

Crass, which was normal. Impersonal, which would have been normal before but now, no longer sufficed. For either of them. Liam tore his eyes away from the skyline to look at him. At the way he had dropped his hands from his tie and was hunched over, Paolo seemed to regret the tone he had taken. 

Still, it was sound advice. What more could be said between them? 

Liam reached up and drew the long, ornate drapes close. He had already removed his shoes and socks but Paolo was still fully dressed. Liam crossed over to stand in front of him. He dropped to his knees, took one booted foot in hand and started to work on the fastenings. Paolo brought his hands up again, reaching for his tie before Liam grabbed his hands and slowly lowered them back down. “You don’t have to do that,” He muttered, even as he didn’t move to interfere. 

“I do as I please.” Liam pulled off the second shoe and sock. Then he took the foot in both of his hands and began to massage it. Immediately, Paolo’s body untensed. When Liam ordered him to lie down, he did so without complaint or even snark. Liam reached up and unbuttoned his pants before slowly and gently pulling them and his undergarments off. 

He pushed himself off his knees and moved between the Serkonan’s legs, spread to accommodate his width, slowly kissing his way up from foot to knee to his inner thighs and sharp hip bones, ignoring his still flaccid dick and smiling at the soft growl of frustration coming from above. 

Liam beckoned Paolo to sit up slightly so he could relieve him of the rest of his clothing. He raked his eyes up and down the man’s body, hungry, blatant and unashamed. It was always striking just how different they were. Just setting aside their personalities, their lifestyle choices, where Liam was tall, bulky and obviously strong, Paolo was not. Rather diminutive, rough and coarse skin, lean muscles. Deceptively strong; thin enough to entice a threat closer and then have them rethink their choices after they’ve lost a few teeth or gone to have their jaw shoved back into place from one good right hook. Quite a few Overseers can attest to that. 

“You’re a good looking man, you know that?” He put his hands on Paolo’s shoulders and raked them down his torso. Taking every inch of the body before him into memory to be to be used later.

“Wandering eyes, Abbey boy.” No denial, not like before. Liam could feel the way his body heat up and his cock twitched. Try as he might to deny it, Paolo enjoyed the attention. No one had ever really spoken to him like this before and Liam was both proud and irritated to be his first. Nothing he disliked more than those who don’t appreciate a gift when they receive it.

“My eyes rarely wander anywhere else these days,” Liam said. He leaned down and pressed soft kisses all over his lover’s torso. He could feel his breath hitch when Liam took in his nipples and how his body rose up off the bed when he sucked harder. 

“Why the fuck are you still wearing clothes?” Paolo moaned, his hands running up and down Liam’s covered back. 

Liam said again, “I do as I please.” 

He kissed and licked his way down until he was bent over between Paolo’s legs and when he was, he did not hesitate. “Forget your eyes,” he groaned, his hips rocking upwards, “That mouth is a sin.”

This was exactly where Liam wanted him; loud, vocal, unconcerned with whether or not he was heard. Paolo’s hands rested on Liam shorn scalp as Liam bobbed up and down, taking his considerable length to the hilt and just reveling in the taste, the smell, sounds they made. Paolo suddenly shot up and hooked his arms under Liam’s, dragging him up and capturing his lips. Liam relaxed on top of him, taking in the feel of every inch of the other man’s mouth. Still he broke away and started to tear at his buttons, no more patience for even his own teasing. He tossed his shirt to the floor, Paolo’s hands immediately running up and down his exposed torso, raking blunt nails down thick pectorals and tweaking dark nipples. 

When he finally shucked off the rest of his clothes, Paolo pulled him back to pick up where they left off, his legs hooking around Liam’s back and their bodies curling further and further into each other. 

When they broke apart for air, Liam immediately attacked his neck. Paolo thrust his hips upwards and Liam moved to meet him. The men ground against each other, losing themselves in the feeling and the effort to make it continue. When they kissed again, it was if their tongues were at war, fighting their way into each other’s mouths only to be forced out again. The whole ordeal was a loud, messy affair; near violent and frighteningly desperate. 

“Outsider’s fucking eyes, Liam.” Paolo cursed when he pulled away, breathless from both pleasure and exertion. Liam’s sight of him blurred when sweat dropped from his forehead into his eyes and he felt Paolo’s thumbs gently wipe them away, eliciting a soft laugh from the both of them. 

Liam straightened up again, crawled up the shorter man’s body and straddled him, still relishing at being able to put his full weight on this man’s body and not see any signs of struggle or discomfort. He lid back slightly, took hold of Paolo’s cock and slowly eased it into himself. Paolo was by no means a small man but Liam rarely needed much preparation to take him. Years of practice, he supposed.

Paolo’s body had gone limp, his sweaty chest heaving like bellows. He tightened up again when Liam got to the hilt and after a spending a few seconds just joined together, the two men began to move. Slowly at first, then faster until all Paolo could bring himself to do was grab onto his shoulders and hang on as Liam reached up, gripped the solid wooden headboard and relentlessly fucked himself and Paolo into the bed. 

The two men went long and hard, groaning and gasping curses and pleads into the air. It felt as if it would go on forever. In Liam’s dreams, perhaps. Where the two of them are far away from the prisons they called their lives. 

He could feel his composure slipping. Liam let go of the headboard, pressed his hands against Paolo’s chest and kept on riding, involuntary groans tearing loose from his throat, not that he cared to hold them back any longer. Paolo suddenly shifted under him. Liam lifted himself up and off his cock so that Paolo could sit up before lowering himself down to the hilt. 

“Oh, you feel so  _ fucking  _ good.” His praises spurred Liam to ride faster, grind harder. The way Paolo gripped his flank, gasped for air, started to lose hold of his rhythm; Liam could tell he was close. No longer able to hold off his finish and now just racing towards it. 

“Inside,” Liam breathed, pressing down to better convey his meaning. “Inside, Paolo.” 

“Whatever you want. I’ll give you whatever you fucking-” Paolo words were cut off by a low, prolonged moan. 

Liam spurred him on. “That’s it. That’s it, come on.” He kissed Paolo once, twice, the Serkonan barely responding beyond his arhythmic grunts and moans, too lost in the feel of it al. “Look at you. You look so good, Paolo. So good for me.” Paolo moaned again. “Yes…yes…”

Paolo’s blunt nails dug into Liam’s legs as he came with a shout. Liam kissed him again. Paolo only needed to grab hold of Liam and give a single stroke before his own completion hit him without warning and he found himself striping Paolo’s chest pale white, his body jerking with the force of his climax. 

When Liam finally came down, his shoulders were shaking. He pressed a hand to his heart, feeling it race beneath his ribs. Slowly, Liam pulled Paolo out and dropped to the side, feeling his racing heart finally start to slow down and his breathing quiet. Reality fell with the come down. This was never going to go on forever, with their end came the end. Paolo would leave his bed, leave  _ him _ and they would go back to life as normal; Separated, vying for each other’s heads, while despite the new Duke’s efforts to curb the violence, their men, their brothers and sisters, killed each other in Karnaca’s streets. 

Liam swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood with a soft grunt and slight stagger. His feet were still having trouble accepting what had to come. He trudged into the bathroom, took a rag from the counter and soaked it in warm water. When he returned, Paolo had barely moved an inch. He was on his back, facing the ceiling with an arm over his eyes. He didn’t stir when Liam’s weight dipped the mattress. Starting with his torso and lower body, Liam quickly scrubbed away sweat and drying semen before he quietly asked Paolo to move his arm. 

He did though his eyes remained on the ceiling, hard and piercing. Liam then ran the cooling towel over his shoulders and neck. Paolo’s eyes shifted and locked with Liam’s when he got to his face and for the longest time, they just watched each other. The silence was quickly becoming too much. “When do you think you’ll be free again? To meet, I mean,” asked Liam, keeping his voice barely above a whisper. 

The hardness in Paolo’s eyes cracked like stone under a miner’s pickaxe. Suddenly he was moving, shifting out from under Liam and standing up. He picked up his clothing and began to dress himself. 

Liam remained in his spot, naked with the rag still in his hand and watched him. “Too busy, Liam,” he finally said, buttoning up his shirt. The tone he affected was businesslike, formal, impersonal. “Shit’s getting to hectic. But you knew that.” He finished and began smoothing down the clothing, wrinkled from the amount of times it’s been ripped off and thrown away with abandon. “Not that it would matter,” he grumbled.

“What?”

Paolo’s fingers paused. After a few seconds, he repeated, “I said, not that it would matter, Liam.” His back kept his back to the man.

“What does that mean?” Liam demanded, more angry and hurt than he really should be, “I want to see you. Don’t you want to see me?” He knew his tone was accusatory. He didn’t meant it but at the same time... 

That was what got Paolo to face him. “What kind of question….of course, I want to see you! But we don’t  _ see _ each other, Liam. We meet, we fuck and we go our separate ways, barely having spoken ten words to each other.” He ran one large hand through his ruined hair and exhaled, “Liam, this has...probably been one of the best weeks of my life. I got to  _ talk _ to you. Even if it was just at night, I got to spend time with you. Now what, I’m just supposed to go back to what we were before? Pretend that this is okay? That this is enough? Because it’s not, Liam. It’s not. I want to wake up with you. I want to eat with you, be seen with you. I want to fuck you, of course but I want to go to sleep with you after. Maybe...maybe even for the rest of my life.” 

Liam had been taken aback by the intensity but it was the very last sentence of his rant that knocked the wind from his lungs and had him squeezing the life out of the rag in his hand. Paolo’s tight features started to slacken, realizing the implication of his words ever so slowly until he could barely look Liam in the eye. For the first time in their relationship, Paolo looked so incredibly shy and flustered, it was almost funny. “I...I mean…shit, Li-”

But Liam stopped him. “No. No, it’s...it’s fine. I understand.” It was just passion, Liam told himself. He didn’t really mean it. 

That thought hurt more than anything. 

After another few seconds of glaring silence, Paolo turned on his heel and gripped the doorknob. He paused with his back to Liam and simply said, “I’ll try. I promise.” A well meaning one. Well meaning and empty. His efforts wouldn’t change reality. “Sleep tight, Li.” 

Liam took in a shaky breath, “You as well, Paolo.” 

Liam stood fixed to his spot, watching Paolo turn, close his door and fought the urge to throw it open and drag him back. 

He was right. After everything, this really was no longer enough. 

  
  



	4. Chapter Four

“Shut it down, Mindy.”

“Boss?”

Paolo reached behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of… _something_. He didn’t care, as long as it made him forget how to breathe. “Saloon’s closed. Tell everybody to go get drunk and piss themselves on someone else’s floor.” She watched him stomp up the stairs, mouth open and then closing as if she wanted to say something or ask what was wrong but thought better of it.

Paolo got to his bedroom, locked the doors, dropped all the blinds. He dropped the bottle on his mattress and stripped out of his clothes, leaving them strewn across the floor on his way to the bathroom. And tomorrow, he would most likely pick them up off the floor, wrinkles and all, put them on and dare someone to comment on it. Only Mindy would have the spine, of course. Anyone else would have theirs ripped out.

He turned on his faucet, filling the sink to near its brim before dunking his head into the pool of freezing water. Hold there for a few seconds, then come back up. A second time, then a third until half the water was on his floor. He came up again for the last time, sputtering and snorting the water from his nostrils. Paolo dragged his hand over his face, wiping the excess water from his eyes and getting a good look at himself in the mirror.

Old was what he was. He looked it anyway, far older than his actual age. He looked old and weathered and beaten and scarred and tired. So fucking tired. He wasn’t handsome; Liam was either full of shit or just had bad taste in men.

Paolo sighed. That wasn’t fair. Not to Li, not to himself and Liam would tell him as much. In that admonishing tone and in that deep, reassuring voice that even made Paolo believe him for a little while. What he wouldn’t give to have Liam lecturing him, right here right now.

It’s been months now and there’s been absolutely no word. The violence had finally come to a complete halt. Hostility persists, of course, as it always will between an organization of violent zealots and a gang of heretical criminals but no deaths. Unequivocally a good thing but a thing that meant he didn’t receive as much information on the Overseers as he’d like. Paolo’s only clue that Liam was even still alive was that he had yet to walk into the Saloon and Mindy raiding his bar in celebration of “someone finally offing that bald piece of whale shit”.

That whole ordeal with the tattoo artist had taken her some time to get past, especially where she blamed herself for bringing attention onto him. Giving him a proper burial, courtesy of that stranger with the covered face had helped but she had still been angry, probably always will be at the cruelty and injustice of it all and had every right to be. Either way, he couldn’t begin to imagine how he would react if he found out in such away.

Still, he worried. And he pined, he wasn’t afraid to admit it anymore. He knew the loneliness he would feel after the talks in Dunwall would take some getting used to but this was stretching on too long. Every day for the last half a year felt like the first, a struggle to sleep without a heavy weight on his back or a heartbeat under his ear. Until even his body gives out and forces him to rest, usually just some time before he has to wake again. Then he’d wake, be hit with realization and slog through his day just to start it all over again at night.

Paolo trudged over to his bed, dragging his feet along the floor before dropping onto the mattress, burying his face in its sheets. He had long since told himself that this was as good as it was going to get. That they both need to either accept it or end what they had. Paolo regularly railed against his own weakness, his lack of resolve to do the latter. But at least he could explain that lack of resolve.

What he couldn’t explain, not to anyone if they ever asked him and certainly not to himself, is why he had such difficulty accepting his lot. Paolo was luckier than most just to have found someone like Liam. Someone who looked at him, saw his many, many, _many_ flaws and still decided he was worth the time and the effort. If you had told him that there would be someone who enjoyed his embarrassing jokes and somehow made even worse returns, who would comfort him as he grieved for the death of a veteran Howler, who trusted Paolo with his deepest thoughts, secrets, fears and insecurities? Shit, he would’ve kissed you full on the mouth. If you told him had told him it would be an Void damned _Overseer_? Well, he’s on speaking terms with the alchemist, lifelong asylum could be arranged. Luca’s former body double could sure use the company.

And yet, here he was. Pathetically pining for said Overseer. As if his longing would cause the man to suddenly appear at his bedroom door and whisk him away into the night. He found someone who he wanted and wanted him just as much. After the things he’s done in his life, what right did he have to demand even more? People like him didn’t get happy endings. Every imagining of his death was violent, depressing, maybe even a bit sad to those who gave more than a shit about him. A sword in his gut, a knife across his throat, a bullet or bolt to the head if he was lucky. Definitely not peacefully, painlessly and surrounded by loved ones. But he could tell himself that over and over and it would change nothing about how he felt.

Paolo fished around for the bottle he had brought with him, pulled the top out with his teeth and took three deep swallows straight to the head. He thought back to their conversations, so few and far between but each was a comfort in times like this. He found that his mind always went to their more mundane conversations. What Morley looked like at that time of year, how the Karnacan skyline compared to Dunwall’s, their daily schedules. Shit that old couples talked over dinner or wine before retiring to bed at the irresponsible hour of eight.

None of the world shaking crap, like Paolo’s most recent fuck up. “ _I want to wake up with you. I want to eat with you, be seen with you,”_ he had said, unable to stop _, “l want to fuck you, of course but I want to go to sleep with you after. Maybe...maybe even for the rest of my life.”_

The look on Liam’s face when the silence set in. His voice when he finally spoke, cutting off the other man’s attempts to correct his mistake. Paolo didn’t know which was worst, the fact that he just accidentally _proposed_ to the man or that he ever let Liam believe he didn’t mean it. Cause he did, every word of it and now, after months without contact, he hated the fact that he had left things like that. Liam deserves better and good man, bad man, Paolo knew he deserved better too.

So he wouldn’t think on it. Avoid the downward spiral it inevitably led to, one he was tired of dragging himself out of. Instead he thought back to earlier days, when after months into their relationship, they really began to trust one another.

During one of their meetings, out in some abandoned building in front of the Royal Conservatory, Paolo recalled one of the many times he was able to get Liam writhing and moaning underneath him. In the middle of it, the man had started laughing; straight giggling like some giddy schoolgirl, only with the body and voice of a grown man. The man couldn’t stop; every little thing Paolo whispered in his ear was answered with snorts, his own dirty talking had to wait until he brought himself down. When they finally finished and Paolo demanded answers, Liam then proceed to stumble through and botch up what was probably one of the most childish jokes Paolo had ever heard in his life, stopping every other word to clamp down on another fit of laughter before starting again.

And when he was finally through it, what did Paolo do? Laugh his fucking ass off, that’s what. The joke was only mildly funny, yes and Liam’s absolutely terrible delivery of it was funnier but Paolo laughed simply because he could. Here they were, in some old, dilapidated apartment building, laughing like drunkards just because they could. Here, nobody could hear them. No chance of Paolo’s boys catching him sucking Overseer dick or Liam’s men catching him balls deep in heretic ass. It was the first time they could be themselves around each other. It was the first time Paolo looked at the other man and thought, “ _I could really love this bastard.”_

Dunwall was the most recent of that night and showed how far they had come. Not just in terms of locales, though you could tear the “two weary soldiers on opposing sides of war rutting violently on creaky floorboards” fantasy from his cold, dead hands. But the way they talked, laughed, joked, snarked at each other; both aware of how rare this was for them yet doing it so naturally.That night seemed so very long ago. Now, Liam still couldn’t tell a joke, Paolo still laughed every time and he had been right. He really did come to love that man.

  



	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was originally gonna be one final chapter but after changing some things around, I realized it had to be split

The Eyeless. Go deep enough into wherever the Empire’s criminal underworld and the occult began to mix and you’ll encounter those Outsider obsessed freaks every single time. The Brigmore Witches, the Overseers, his Howlers, all had their run-ins with them one way or another. But when he had heard about the Spectre and the Albarca Baths ( _“Grand Guard do_ **_that_ ** _? Bullshit, Mindy.”)_ , he assumed that they were done for good.

Turns out they weren’t dead, at least not yet. Just close enough to the brink for them to get extraordinarily desperate and do something extraordinarily stupid. The few of them that remained lashed out at the last two notable sources of magic left in Karnaca after the Witch Empress’s defeat and their own destruction; the Overseers and their contraband and Paolo himself.

A break in at the saloon in the dead of night. Praise that old woman’s hand and Mindy deciding to stick around or he would not be here, alive to tell the tale and to deal with the anxiety. He had been in one of his lower moods for some time before it happened and this assassination attempt was just the shit icing on the shitpile that had been his day so when he ordered Mindy to get him more information out of the assassin, he couldn’t stress the concept of “by any means necessary” to her anymore even if he wanted to.

She got it and after the mangled body had been wrapped in barbed wire and thrown into the sea, she told him; The Vice Overseer was next. The look of sheer panic that had crossed Paolo’s face was the closest he had to revealing their secret.

They ambushed Liam on the way to visit the old friend of his mother, as he has done on a regular basis for all the years he had been in Karnaca. Several of them, scurrying from alleys and dark corners like the rats they were, in broad daylight no less. They had a mind to play with their prey. Beat him, injure him, draw out what would have been a very gruesome murder if Paolo hadn’t tracked the man down and gotten to them in time. From their “mundane conversations”, he had known where Liam would be and the route he would take.

Paolo came down upon them like the wrath of the Outsider himself. Appearing from the same shadows, running one through from behind, giving Liam time to pull a hidden pistol from belt and blow open another’s skull. The fight was quick, bloody. Any doubts that Paolo may have had that he was losing his step with age and depression were dashed in the altercation. It was the same with any hopes he held that the cutthroat he had been in the past was dead and gone. He would cut one woman’s throat and revel in the abject panic that had crossed her face before she fell. He had bolted an Eyeless man twice in the soft part of his gut after the man had struck him across the face and then a fired off a third one when he had already fallen to the ground, twitching in what must have been unimaginable pain. Whether or not it was necessary was objective; it wasn’t. A gut wound like that would take a slow, agonizing while to kill him and Paolo would have surely felt horribly guilty about it later if Liam hadn’t come up and put one in between the man’s eyes. But whether or not it was deserved was just as objective. _They attacked Liam. They almost took Liam._ Paolo would have done it again and again and again and would’ve sat there and watched, later feelings of guilt be damned.

Liam walked away. They both did; Liam with a several new scars and Paolo, only one of his eyes. The man with the gut wound got him good. He had barely noticed the hit or that the thing was gone, given the way temple cuts usually bled. Liam had noticed before he had even started to feel it and nearly carried him into an old abandoned building so he could fret and worry over him away from prying eyes. He could stop the bleeding, clean up the wound but he couldn’t save the ruined body part.

“So this is what it takes for me to get you alone, huh?” Paolo had asked, as they sat up against a crumbling wall. An easy, light tone; the Overseer already looked prepared to keel over from guilt. “An assassination attempt and an eye. Not the worst hand I’ve been dealt.”

“Paolo, don’t.” Liam’s voice was so tight, so _tired_ , it made Paolo sober up quick. His legs drew in and he rested his arms on them, letting out a long, shuddering breath. “I almost died. _You_ almost died.” Another breath and then he whispered, “Why?”

“Why? The fuck you mean ‘why’?” Paolo had to bodily turn just to look at the man to his left. The motion left his head throbbing“I did it to protect you! What other reason, Li-” he stopped his ranting when he saw the water running down the man’s hands, his shoulders shaking and his breath seizing. Paolo stood, “Li. Hey, hey, Li, look at me.” He knelt down before the man and gently pulled his hands away. Liam’s eyes were gaunt, sunken, the tearful glimmer in them angry and bereaved. Paolo put it together quickly, “Something else happened…”

Liam let out a sardonic huff. “Yeah. Yeah, something else happened.” He looked away, out of a window showing the setting sun against the sea. “My mother’s friend,” his voice grew quieter and quieter, “She died. Just last week.”

Even with all the practice he had, losing his Howlers to the streets or to Overseers, Paolo was never very good at comforting others. So when Liam dropped this veritable bombshell on him, all he could do was gape in stunned silence for the first few seconds before managing a stuttering, “Shit...shit, Li. I’m so sorry.”

Liam said nothing, just laid his head back against the wall and stared out the window. Paolo sat down at his feet, still holding the Overseer’s hand in his own. “How did it happen?” Paolo then asked.

“Her neighbor said it was peaceful. In her sleep.” He sniffed and ran a hand over his nose, “It was a long time coming. I was…” he gestured out the window to the street, “I was going to settle our tab. Cafe owner knew her well and always let us settle everything when the month ended.” His fingers tightened around Paolo’s slightly, rubbing the head of his thumb over Paolo’s palm. “She was family, Paolo. No matter my duties, I always made sure I made time to meet her,” he continued, “Back in Fraeport, when I was a boy, she told me that no matter what others wanted, I’m the one who will have to live with my choices. That I needed to make the ones I was happy with.”

“There’s wisdom in that, Li.”

“It led me to joining the Abbey,” he said, “Pushed me through the ranks, got me where I am today,” he paused to breath, to clamp down on another sob. Paolo felt the need to tell him to let it out, that there was no need to stifle himself around him but kept silent. “Two weeks ago was the last time we went to…our spot. She asked me if I was happy. Then told me the exact same thing she did well over twenty five years ago. That at the end of everything, I need to do what makes me happy. That the worst thing to die with was with regrets.”

Paolo hummed, remembering what flashed before his eyes when the Eyeless came for him, “Did she have any?”

“No. None at all,” Liam chuckled, “I asked her too. Never wanted to marry. Never wanted children. Her job was her passion and it put food on the table. I asked her what of family. She said she had my mother and my father for the time she did.” He sobered up, “She had me. She wanted for nothing else. She seemed so calm and serene throughout our entire time together. I think she knew that it would be the last one.”

They sat in silence after that or at least, Liam did. Paolo let him stay that way, let him mourn the last of his family safely, away from prying, Abbey eyes. His outburst at the start made more sense to him now. With her gone, Liam truly has no one else.

No one else but him. The thought turned itself over and over within Paolo’s mind. Along with one other. _I am the one who will have to live with my choices. Make sure they are ones you will be happy with. Am I happy? Is he?_

“Li,” Paolo called his name, his heart hammering inside his chest as a plan formulated in his mind, “Morley. Can you tell me about it again?”

The big man blinked. “Well, what else is there to say? It’s a lot more temperate than Serkonos. Cooler, snows on occasion. Sky’s almost always cloudy but it’s serene.” He smiled, “Got a lot of memories of just running around outside as a kid, doing nothing but just being out there. Get close enough to the inner parts of the town and you can smell the spices, the herbs, the stews, the roasts, every little thing being cooked down in the town markets.”

“Sounds nice,” Paolo sighed, “Does every time you tell about it.” He slowly got to his feet, his head still pounding behind his missing eye. Liam quickly stood with him, ignoring the pain of his own injuries to help him along. “The place is nearby right? Go and settle the tab. Then we can get out of here.”

“Shouldn’t I go alone? What if we’re seen?”

“Liam, I will fucking shoot anyone who so much as looks at us the wrong way, much less says something.” The corner of the Overseer’s lip curled upwards slightly, “Besides, I’m in no condition to be walking myself around. I could use the escort.” Liam smiled fully at that, putting his arm around Paolo’s shoulder and leading him forward. “Li?”

“Yes, Paolo.”

“I’m going to be at a meeting with the Duke. Tomorrow, around the middle of the day.” His heart began racing again. He was really going through with this. “Can you make it there?”

He assured without hesitation, “I’ll be there. I promise.”

“Good.” Paolo stopped the two of them before they could go any further, brought Liam’s face down to his and kissed him. It was a long time before Paolo pulled away and when he did, Liam simply tightened the grip he had on his body and pulled him back in.

Heavy breathing when they separated once more. Liam leaned down, pressed his forehead against the other and murmured, “I’ve missed you.”

Paolo could only just kiss him again.

* * *

“The Eyeless, huh?” Duke Abele rubbed the dark bristles dotting his skin, “After that mess in Upper Cyria, I was assured they would no longer be an a problem.”

Liam was here with him in the Grand Palace, as he promised. Only a few of the wounds he sustained, cleaned and bandaged, could be seen beneath his uniform. Paolo’s own was much harder to hide. The entire left side of his head was densely wrapped in white gauze. The Duke was staring, the Overseers were staring and Mindy looked half prepared to give them all scars to match. “These seem more like desperate remnants than an actual threat,” Liam said.

“Very desperate if they went to such lengths.” The Duke’s eyes were on Paolo when he spoke. Paolo could barely bring himself to care, too caught up both in his own pain and the effort to keep focused despite it. Liam was barely an arm’s distance away and with his self control waning, it was taking all of what was left of it to not just lean into the man. _“Not yet,”_ he kept telling to himself, “ _Not yet.”_

Liam cleared his throat, quiet enough that Paolo could tell it was for him. Then the Overseer squared his shoulders and said, “This was actually for my sake.” He gestured to Paolo. “They had attacked Paolo first. When he caught wind that I was their next target, he came to my rescue.” Judging by the body language of the Overseers tailing him, this was the first they had heard of it. The heretic had lost an eye for the zealot bent on wiping his kind from the world.

Unlike them, Abele wasn’t wearing a mask. He had the same surprised body language, the same look of shock on his face only now, just not as hidden. “Forgive me but I’m surprised you took such a blow for him.”

Paolo hummed, affecting a slight bit of amusement. “So was he.”

“Given your animosity in the past…”

Paolo waved his hand, “And that’s where it is. In the past. We’ve done good work here for the people of Serkonos and I can’t speak for him but feel it is better than any either of us could have done alone.”

Luca gave a small smile at that, “You will work on this together then?”

“If you mean gathering and passing on information, then yes, of course. The good thing about the Eyeless is how...diverse they are. A wealthy business owner and the poor man who sweeps her floors during the night shifts could both be a part of the group. They make no distinction.”

“Then why do such inequalities still persist?” One of Liam’s underlings asked, in an accent that said he wasn’t from Serkonos or even Gristol. “These people could elevate their brothers and sisters; they share a similar goal.”

“Their biggest concern is the next world, not this one.” Liam was starting to pace back and forth while speaking. Meetings like this taught Paolo that he did that when he was thinking hard on something. He’d eventually start talking with his hands, a trait he picked up from Paolo himself “At least it is for the rich ones, already well situated. I doubt this complacency exists among the less fortunate, at least not as strongly. The Howlers can speak to poorer members, use them to root out the more dangerous higher ups. Maybe even find who put the order out on our lives.”

His hands entered the conversation. Paolo nearly laughed. “Between the Overseers and the Grand Guard, there’s no reason we can’t root out the last of these murderers, though I expect that we will have to extend efforts past Serkonos. The Empress and the Lord Protector might have to get involved.”

“My boys will do what they can,” Paolo assured, “As for me, Duke Abele, I will stick out this last fight but after,” he said, “I think I’m done.”

Abele’s eyebrows nearly shot off his face. Liam did a marginally better job of keeping a lid on his own surprise. “Done? You’re…”

“Retiring, yes.” Just saying the word reminded him of how exhausted he was. The pain of his ruined eye had dulled but was still there, constantly reminding him of what he had been robbed of. “Been fighting for a long time. All my life, in fact. All of that can weigh heavily on you, your Grace, and I think I’ve had my fill.” He turned and gestured to Mindy, “After, Mindy here will take my place leading the Howlers. Been a long time coming, I think.” Despite her displeasure with the news, having heard it earlier, gave a small smile at that.

“Where will you be going then?”

“Tyvia, your Grace, southern side. After all this sun and heat…” The bloodflies, the bloodshed and Abele’s own witch influenced rule went unmentioned, “I’d prefer to settle down someplace more temperate. Friend of mine described it to me once. Cooler, snows on occasion. Sky’s almost always cloudy but it’s serene.” He recited, allowing a small smile at the tiny sound that escaped Liam’s throat, “Said he had a lot of memories of just running around outside as a boy, doing nothing but just being out there. Get close enough to the inner parts of the town and you could smell the spices, the herbs, the stews, the roasts, every little thing being cooked. It’s not Serkonos. It’s not Karnaca but after a six or seven months of setting up, I can see it becoming a good home for me.”

Luca stood and extended his hand. After some surprise and hesitation, Paolo took it firmly. “Then I wish you the best, Paolo. It’s been an honor working with you.”

“You’re too kind, your Grace.” It was the least he could do, fixing this mess of a country that he helped drag down.

Liam spared him a glance as he and Mindy made their way out. A glance and nothing more. But there was so much emotion and meaning behind it. The question he had asked the previous night made so much more sense now. _“Morley. Can you tell me about it again?”_

The glance was short, insignificant and inconsequential to anyone else. To Paolo, it told him all he needed to know.

That he understood. Completely.

  



	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really have nothing to say here at the end but thank you for sticking through this with me

The last thing Paolo did before leaving Karnaca was pass on the crone’s hand. It had been his biggest advantage, his greatest find. It belonged to the leader of the Howlers. It was no longer his to keep.

It was an emotional affair, even if both he and Mindy remained stiff-lipped and casual. She was still the last to see him off at the docks and stayed at the shore even as his ship faded over the horizon. He worried. It was for nothing, Mindy would be okay but still, he did. He has never prayed a day in his life. Who would even listen? Certainly not the Outsider. But this time, he did. He asked for her safety, he asked for her happiness and should she ever find out the truth about his retirement, why he had to leave, he asked that she would someday forgive him.

The year after leaving Serkonos and the Howlers behind passed by and he felt the weight of each and every day. Even in the southernmost part of Morley, Alba took some getting used to. The air was cooler than he was accustomed to and the food a bit blander. Serkonans are biased, some would say. Their version of mild would kill most other people. But when Liam was right, by the Outsider, he was right. The weather here was easy on his one eye, it’s ruined, scarred partner, his old wounds, his skin, his disposition. He could take in a lungful of air and not find himself choking on salt or reeling at the fetid stink of sun-cooked corpses, whale or human. If there was any place that could make him forget about his past, this was it.

But even though he hoped to atone in some way for his past actions and leave the person he had been behind, he did not leave Serkonos empty-handed. Some of the fortune he amassed was donated. The Miner’s Committee, the construction of several schools, improvements to Addemire. Some he left with the Howlers, his final gift to the people he had come to call family, who he would always call family. The rest went with him. Enough to retire with and live out his life comfortably. It was little trouble buying land, building a home, getting to know the people in his town. Setting up the foundations of a new life in just under a year, as he said. As he promised.

All that came was the wait. Liam had the harder job. He would have to find some way to leave the Abbey behind for good. Paolo was asking a damn lot from this man and it bothered him constantly. He has never even known anyone to just quit the Overseers. As much as he wanted Liam here, in his home, _their_ home, he’d never forgive himself if Liam was hurt or killed attempting to leave. The so-called righteous and pure were always the ones capable of the most barbarism. If it meant never seeing Liam again, so be it.

The town and its people had a peaceful, friendly air to them. Alive without being too lively. Throughout the year, Paolo got to know the people of Alba; the bartenders, the restaurant owners, the dock workers among others. Paolo was a sociable man but rarely without reason and no one in this town was so rich that their lips remained tight at the sight of coin, though befriending first them always helped. If anyone, friendly or not, came asking for him, he would know.

When it happened Paolo had been outside his home, with a chair, a knife and a block of wood; an old hobby taken back up now that he had the time as well as the patience. He had been out there since late afternoon, watching the sun set and the moon shine against the glittering sealine. At least that little part of home could follow him here, even when everything else had to be left behind.

The gate creaked, a telltale sound of it being opened and then after a few seconds, closed and locked. Paolo kept his back to the new arrival as heavy booted footsteps drew closer and closer until they stopped at his side, a large shadow looming over him.

Paolo had spent the previous night at the bar, listening as some of the dock workers he had come to know groused on about their workday, only shutting up after he had bought them all the next round of drinks. Today, in much better spirits, they were happy to tell him of a man coming in from the southernmost port, asking for him. Tall, broad, shaved head, Morley accent and other such defining characteristics; he had stopped hearing them halfway through.

So Paolo kept his eye on the skyline and kept silent until he could no more. “What do you think?” he asked, his voice quiet as the night and rough with barely contained emotion, “As good as Dunwall’s?” The only sound Paolo heard from the new arrival was heavy breathing and the soft crack of twigs beneath his feet as the man drew closer, still looming over Paolo’s head.

The knife hung loosely in his grip, blade pointed at the ground. He wanted to turn, stand but something kept him rooted to the spot. Fingers touched his shoulders, then slowly flattened into palms, gripping tightly. Paolo hadn’t realized how cold he was until those hands practically sparked flame. “Nothing to say?” He said, his voice wavering, “You see this horizon, don’t you?”

This time the response was immediate. “No,” Liam murmured. “I’m not looking at the horizon.”

The knife slipped from Paolo’s fingers and thudded into the grass. He leaned back, vision blurring. He cursed, bringing his hands up to his eyes before they could fall. The hands on his shoulders squeezed again and then began to pull. “Look at me. For fuck’s sake, Paolo, stand up and look at me.”

Paolo let out a small laugh. He bent down, slightly out of Liam’s grip to pick up and sheath the knife, then he stood, his back still to him. Liam’s arms were around his waist in an instant, his head buried into the crook of Paolo’s neck. “I was afraid, you know,” said Paolo. “That...I was asking too much of you. To just up and quit the Abbey. And what makes it worse,” he paused to swallow the lump growing in his throat, “What makes it worse is that I probably wouldn’t ever have known. You could’ve been imprisoned or executed and all I would know is that you never came. That I’d have to be here alone.”

Paolo’s breath was coming out in shudders; that clutching fear in your heart you feel after something happens that could have gone so, so much worse. Liam’s head was still buried in his neck. Paolo turned to finally look at him and kissed his head slowly, his only intent to feel Liam’s skin on his lips. The temple, his ears, his neck, every little scar he had access to until Liam finally lifted up and captured his lips.

Now, there was intent. There was nothing chaste or innocent about this, this was all tongue and teeth and desperation. When they finally parted, it was more to look at each other and less for air. Liam held Paolo’s face in his hand and just watched him, running his fingers over his skin, the stubble he was growing out, the scar of his eye. “You’re getting soft, old man.”

“You’re the soft one.” His lips ran over Paolo’s forehead as he spoke. Then he leaned back, “You’ve just rubbed off on me.” Liam pulled back and moved to his side, his arms around Paolo’s shoulders. He was staring at the house. “This is ours?”

“This is ours.”

He exhaled, breath full of weariness and disbelief. “Wow.”

Paolo started towards it, taking Liam’s hand. The furnace was still going strong and Liam visibly relaxed at the feel of the heat once the doors were closed behind him. Liam’s eyes were more on the house now, even as Paolo pulled him towards the back. Even with a year to think about it, this was all still very hard to believe.

Paolo locked the bedroom door once they were inside. Wasn’t necessary but old habits and all that. He heard Liam’s bag drop to the floor but the heat of him never left his back. They had things to talk about, sure. But it could wait. They had all the time in the world now.

“On the bed,” Paolo ordered gently, nudging Liam towards it. Paolo knelt before him and began to undo the straps of his boots. Liam groaned when the first was pulled off and again after the second. “You were on your feet long?”

“Yes.” Came the soft reply. Paolo pushed his fingers into the soles, remembering with perfect clarity when Liam last did this for him.

“How did you find me?” Paolo put more pressure in his massaging, moving his hands all over until he found the spots Liam responded the most to.

Liam sat up with a grunt but kept his foot in Paolo’s hands. “Asked around. Took some doing.”

“I figured.”

“You figured?”

Paolo brought his hands up to the muscled calves. “How do you think I knew you were here? People talk.”

“Hmm, so they do.” Paolo felt his eyes boring into the top of his head, “Did you really think I wouldn’t come?”

“Thought they would hurt you doing so, Liam. I was afraid” he answered. In truth he still was. Like a barely countered fatal blow or a bullet whizzing past your head so closely, you could feel the searing heat. It was always the “what if’s” that kept you up at night.

“Do you want to know how I did it?”

Paolo paused. The dwelling was always there but there came a time where you just had to let go. Take in a deep breath, gather the fear, the worry, the anxiety all into your lungs and then just let it out. “Will it affect us in the future?” He asked, resuming.

“No.” One word, perfectly clear and beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Paolo inhaled, held it for some time and then let it out. “Then no.”

He rose up and kissed Liam, pushing him back against the bed and laying over him. The man’s legs wrapped around him, squeezing him at the waist. Paolo paused, lifting up only to divest himself of his shirt. He leaned only halfway back before Liam grabbed his head and pulled him the rest of the way, pushing his tongue into Paolo’s mouth as soon as he did.

Paolo broke off again, hiking Liam’s thin shirt up to his chest and pressing his lips to skin, slowly, slowly trailing down until he was kissing the hard outline of his dick through his pants, listening and smiling as the enjoyment became frustration.

“Damn it, Paolo. I’m in no mood to be teased,” Liam snapped, the intended bite hindered by laughter.

“Why not?” Paolo kept his face in the man’s crotch. He could honestly live there if Liam would let him. “We’ve got all night.”

Liam’s lips twitched and ever so slowly, rose into a smile. Paolo went back to it, slowly pulling Liam’s belt apart. Above him, he heard Liam mutter. “Li, did you say something.”

“I said, you’re right.” His arms rose up over his head and he sank deeper into the mattress. “Take your time. We’ve got all night.”

“And tomorrow night. And the next.” He looked up to catch Liam’s eye, grinning, “At least until you get bored with me.”

Liam barked out a laugh, loud enough to nearly echo off the walls. “Take it as slow as you want tonight,” he said.

“Oh, I will.”

“And you’ll spend tomorrow night with your face in the pillow.” Liam grinned cheekily back. “Since you want to tease.”

Paolo freed his dick, hard and pulsating, jumping when Paolo ran the flat of his tongue along it. “Is that supposed to stop me?”

Liam leaned up and ran a hand through Paolo’s hair, not so much as gripping but just feeling him. “The exact opposite.”

* * *

It was cold this morning. As it was yesterday, as it probably would be tomorrow. Paolo’s first thoughts upon rising was doubt that he would ever truly get used it.

The snoring furnace helped but still.

Paolo got dressed as quietly as he could, though he doubted that any noise he made would actually wake the other man up. He kneeled over the bed, pressing a kiss to the side of Liam’s head before leaving him to his rest. Liam didn’t wake but he did let out the softest sigh, the corner of his mouth curling upwards slightly. Paolo could kiss him again. As a matter of fact, he did.

He passed through their kitchen, kicking one of his old cotton shirts into a corner against the wall. Two days ago, Liam had the idea to turn the ratty thing into a rag after he had accidentally ruined it, showing off with the too small piece of clothing clinging to his torso. At Paolo’s request, he insisted was his only reason for agreeing, as if he didn’t enjoy the attention he got and the reactions he elicited. Say what you will about the Abbey. They sure knew how to grow ‘em.

“ _Don’t take this the wrong way but I’m starting to think that you’ve got a thing.”_

_“That was my line, Li.”_

_“That was years ago.”_

_“I don’t recall giving you permission to use it.”_

_“Well, I’m stealing it.”_

_“Thief_ .” Paolo’s snarl devolved into a deep throated moan when Liam brought both his arms up and flexed for him. “ _By the Void, look at you.”_

The moan was interrupted by the loud, telltale sound of clothing tearing followed promptly by nearly ten straight minutes of raucous laughter. The way Liam’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when the strained shirt finally quit on him would have Paolo roaring for the rest of his life.

Paolo had someone to meet, at a small restaurant down by the docks. Not exactly scheduled but this person, a kid, probably orphaned, would always be there whenever he was and after being unable to resist the lonely, hungry look on the boy’s face, Paolo had broken down and bought the kid a meal, enough food to keep him through the entire day. This began six months into his stay. Afterwards, Paolo made a point to visit the place at least once a week and the boy made a point to be there waiting. Liam had been home for a week, making it difficult for Paolo to leave the house. They had barely left the bedroom. But still, Paolo had a promise to keep.

“Kid?” he called out as he got close to the place, earning himself some looks, even as busy as the town center was. “Come on, I know you’re here.” No response. He sighed. “Closed mouths don’t get fed, boy.”

“I’m not a boy,” snapped a familiar voice that couldn’t possibly belong to anyone over the age of ten. A tuft of brown hair poked out of the shadows of an alley next to the place, followed by a sharp, scowling young face. He crossed his tiny arms, “You said you’d stop calling me that.”

“I said I’d stop calling you that when you tell me your name.” He jerked his head in the direction of the cafe, “C’mon, soup’s on.”

“What does that even mean?” He asked, following anyway. His pattering feet strained to keep up with Paolo’s easy stride.

“What in the Void do you think it means? You can’t be _that_ young.”

“Well, maybe you’re just _that_ old,” the kid snapped back, earning a shove from Paolo and Paolo earning a small smile in return. Snarky little shit. A good thing, given how the kid could barely bring himself to look Paolo in the eye before. Mindy would’ve loved him.

At the counter to order, the grey-haired head cook gave Paolo a smile in greeting. “Haven’t seen you in a little while.”

“You’re making me fat, Mark. My belts can only handle so much.”

The boy stood up on his toes to stage whisper in Paolo’s ear. “Do you think it’s age?” Paolo just shoved him again.

Mark chuckled. “You’re rubbing off on him, Paolo.”

“Hey, I am not that bad!”

“True. He wishes he were me.”

“ _Mouth,_ ” Paolo bit out through clenched teeth, hoping he sounded at least somewhat menacing. He only ended up getting laughed at again.

This twig of a kid could scarf down food like nobody’s business, already licking clean his plate before Paolo could get halfway. When the kid’s mouth wasn’t stuffed to bursting, they would talk. Paolo would ask questions and for the most part, the kid would either hesitate, lie or just refuse to answer. They were admittedly rather personal questions but they were about things that Paolo would feel better off knowing. What did the kid eat whenever Paolo didn’t show? Has anyone been bothering him? Where does he sleep? Is it warm? Is it dry? Is it safe?

“You know,” Paolo started up again after a period of silence, watching the people Alba go on about their day, “I’ve got room if you need a better place to stay.”

The sound of a fork scraping against plate stopped suddenly. Paolo turned back to look at the boy, whose eyes wouldn’t leave his plate. Then in a soft, meek voice, completely unlike how he had been before, the kid simply said. “I have a place.”

“I can guarantee my place is warmer.” Paolo started eating again, “And drier. Probably cleaner too.”

“‘Probably’?” Of course, he picked up on that. Pointed it out in the hopes of changing the topic.

Paolo just smiled. “It’s not too bad. It’s a little bit more lived in than a moldy alleyway.”

At this point, the kid was refusing to meet his eye. “I...don’t want to be a burden.”

Paolo shrugged. “Don’t know what that’s got to do with anything.” He got to his feet. “Get more food from Mark whenever you want,” he said, “You’re paid for through the day.”

He started to walk off when he heard behind him. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I don’t have to do anything, kid.” Paolo reached into his jacket pocket and took out a toothpick. “When your stomach or the cold overpower your dignity, you know where to find me,” he said, with a wave goodbye behind him.

It was later that evening, after he had finished his errands around the town and was halfway out of it when he noticed he was being trailed. Footsteps to light, too clumsy, too hesitant. It couldn’t have been anyone else. Paolo slowed his pace, laced his hands behind his back. “Keep up, kid,” he called into the cooling air, “I’m not trying to spend all day walking.”

“You already have,” he muttered, his voice just barely audible over the patter of little feet struggling to catch up.

“What was that?”

“I said…” The boy stopped, big brown eyes rapidly blinking. “Lucas.”

Paolo paused. The kid paused with him, those eyes on his feet. He said again. “My name is Lucas.”

Paolo raised his hand and placed on the back of his neck. Slowly, carefully as to not startle him. The boy, Lucas, practically fell back into it. “Come, Lucas.” They started walking again, Paolo’s arm now completely wrapped around his shoulders. “There’s someone I want you to meet. You’ll like him. I promise.”

Lucas just nodded. They continued on, Lucas pressing closer and closer to him all the while. “How long can I stay?”

“As long as you want.”

“What it…” his feet slowed as Paolo’s home came into view. Lights were on and movement could be seen through the windows. “What if you get tired of me?”

Paolo thought back, to a little piece of Liam’s childhood the man had shared with him. It had been about his parents. How they were so in love and affectionate and that their favorite past time was exaggerated displays of affection in front of their boy. The kind that parents used to send their kids scattering in all directions, squealing and laughing with disgust. He then said that even as he grew, even as he knew what the spurred the affection on and cause people to toss nearly all sense of shame out the window, he never truly understood it until now.

“ _When did you start to understand_ ?” Paolo had asked. The other man started laughing, the stifled, barely restrained kind. Then he asked if Paolo remembered that joke he told. Inside that abandoned building within the Conservatory district. Then it was Paolo’s turn to just barely catch a snorting laugh before it could escape his nose. “ _How ‘bout you tell me again, huh?”_

“Kid, I promise you,” he then said, “You’ll get tired of a long time before we get tired of you.” Lucas beamed at that.

He didn’t know why he thought of Liam’s story about his parents at that moment. He didn’t know the relevance and at the same time, he did. And for some strange reason, the ideas it brought on and what it could lead to did not scare him, even when all he could remember was being fearful of the future. Maybe it was when you finally let go of yesterday, that tomorrow becomes something worth looking forward to.

That’s what he saw when he looked at this kid, this house, that man. He saw tomorrow.

  



End file.
